


This Is What We Are

by ThisIsAwesomeness1825



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Drabble, F/M, annabeth narrating the story, percabeth life, written like david levithan's the lover's dictionary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 02:50:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10777950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisIsAwesomeness1825/pseuds/ThisIsAwesomeness1825
Summary: A small collection of Annabeth's thoughts about the things inside their home. Short stories about Percabeth Life.





	This Is What We Are

**Spaghetti**

I could still clearly remember the first time I tried to cook. We had just moved in by then.

Everything was a mess; boxes filled up the entire living room, papers and clothes and things were scattered all over the floor and cans of paint were sitting quietly beside the door, waiting to paint colors in our new home.

I found it weird and endearing all the same, that even though we had just settled in, we found ourselves calling this newly-rented and barren apartment our home. Perhaps, maybe it wasn't just pertaining to this small structure, but more of the fact that we're here - _you're here_ and everything about us that made this place somehow a fragment of our sanctuary. There's something comforting in seeing this mess around us, the imperfection of the details, knowing that this was us and never ever would we be flawless.

We had just finished unpacking and were both lounging on the couch, my head on your chest, your arm at my shoulder. We stared around the room in silence, taking in the whole state of the place when you suddenly muttered, "I'm hungry."

I didn't know but perhaps it was the spur of the moment, that somehow led me standing behind the stove, poorly attempting to make a simple spaghetti. You said that we could just order a pizza, but I was too preoccupied to agree so.

Instead, you just stood on my side, watching as I fumbled for a fork to get the overheated pasta. I was sure I was blushing by then, I mean there's no other way to embarrass myself than in front of my boyfriend. But, you didn't make fun of me, and it was as if you're deeply enchanted to watch me cook. There's something that glowed like adoration in your eyes, and I found myself falling further.

After some minutes, I reluctantly handed you a plate of what I'd murdered- well, cooked. The overcooked pasta was drowning in a sea of red- tomato sauce, and instead of looking like a meal of spaghetti, it looked like I just murdered and castrated a completely innocent pasta. It was sour and a bit spicy (I might have poured too many tomato sauce), and even then you still devoured it like the second most delicious food in the world (nothing comes best than the blue food).

You were grinning and smiling at me the whole time that I almost believed I could cook. I sat by your side then and began to join you in the pleasure of feasting on my sorry excuse for a spaghetti.

It was already past midnight and my eyes were now clouded in sleep (I bet yours too) but I could still see clearly at that moment, you love me as far as this sorry spaghetti goes.

* * *

**Toothpaste Cap Part 1**

It was one of those times when I kept stepping on toothpaste caps that I decided to give you a lecture about hygiene and sanitation.

I'll admit, I have the tendency to rant on something when provoked or least, questioned. But there were times when I'm in a great mood that I spit out facts about history that you probably wouldn't bother to know. Nevertheless, you still listened to me, never even once showing a face of boredom. There's a delighted look on your eyes whenever I do rant on something, and I wondered, what was so delightful in hearing me talk. I never asked you that of course, though I'm still intrigued to know. But over the time, I realized that maybe, you weren't listening to anything that I say at all. Instead, you listened to me as I talked, the tone of my voice, the shift of my pitch and even the slightest changes in my pauses. You tried to understand the smallest of things about myself that I don't really bother to care.

And maybe, just maybe, I didn't get the slightest mad at you for not remembering anything that I said at all.

* * *

**Toothpaste Cap Part 2**

I had just woken up then when I found you standing behind the sink, seconds after you finished brushing. I leaned against the doorframe, watching as you set your toothbrush beside mine and walked away without even bothering to place the toothpaste cap back on.

Normally, I would berate you for doing that so, but I guess even then, I had grown tired of reminding, "Put the cap back on, Percy."

As that frequently happened, I wondered if you were just doing that on purpose to extract a reaction from me. Or perhaps, you knew me too well that I'll just put the toothpaste cap back in the end. Like you knew that I'll always have your back in a battle, and no matter how long we fight, we'll always get together before the sun sets.

It's kind of terrifying, actually. Knowing that there's someone who knew you as much as yourself, perhaps even more. Yet, it's reassuring all the same that there's a possibility that if I get lost, I knew you'll always be there to remind and keep me on track.

And in case you're wondering, yes, I put the cap back.

* * *

**Couch**

I think one of my favorite moments was when we had a movie night.

We were both bored and too lazy to go out so we just stayed inside with the special company of a tub of ice cream and of course, a 'special movie' that you picked. When I read the title, I totally cracked up and instead of joining, you just blushed fiercely. Seriously, I didn't peg you to be the romantic kind of guy (even though you try, sometimes). What I had in mind was actually an action or a horror one, but I guess there's no harm in trying to watch whatever Aphrodite was obsessing in.

Eventually, (I couldn't believe it so) I started to get invested in the plot; where the utterly oblivious guy meets another girl and completely angers his best friend (this reminded me of something. . .) And though my eyes were fixed on the screen, I realized that you weren't talking or moving at all. Like really. You decided to ditch me by falling asleep in the middle of a movie? Very smart move, Perce.

But then, you looked so peaceful and calm that I forgot I'm supposed to be mad at you. The worry lines that creased your forehead were smoothed out and your facial muscles seemed to be more relaxed. There's a trickle of drool from the side of your mouth, and I couldn't help but laugh at the memory. You actually looked younger and more *cough* handsome *cough*.

This moment was so normal and casual that no one would ever think that you're the hero that saved Olympus. No one would ever think that you've been through hell, literally, back and forth. And no one would ever think that you lost so much because they didn't know and all that mattered was us.

But, I guess did it matter that we sacrificed so much for this wars? We were just another bunch of demigods to be used, another character on tragic stories of heroes to tell. We could never mean so much to them, after all, there were thousands who came before us. Thousands who experienced the same hardships. Thousands who eventually died.

And yet, as you blindly reached for my hand in the quiet company of the night, I knew there was something different between us. Something that perhaps ran deeper than we initially imagined and continued to branch until we couldn't control it anymore. We were so invested in each other that it's impossible to pull back. Heck, even Tartarus did try, only to fail.

Perhaps, falling asleep on the couch was one of the closest normal activity that we did, but as you curled to me closer and mumbled, "Wise Girl" in your sleep, I knew that at least there's one person who saw me as his world.

I'm not a romantic but hey, Seaweed Brain, you are my world too.


End file.
